Hermione's Daughter
by theinvisibilitycloak
Summary: 16 years after the death of Harry Potter and the hope for the salvation of the wizarding world, Hermione is in hiding with her 15yearold daughter, Leda, in the English woods. Leda soon discovers her mission. AU, OC/TR
1. Her Daughter

A/N: This is my first fanfic, so please review!!! I promise it will get more interesting!! The end will be big!!!

Chapter 1

Her Daughter

"Remember, be careful not to make too much noise and come at eleven sharp." yelled Hermione from the kitchen.

Leda nodded while she mentally rolled her eyes. Her mother was always too cautious. She climbed the stairs that led to the exit of the underground house. As she reached the top, she looked into the small hole in the ceiling, to check if the coast was clear. It was. Leda then carefully removed the small square of ceiling above her, put on the invisibility cloak over her head, and climbed the ladder up to the woods. Feeling the breeze hit her immediately, she sighed with immense pleasure at the emotions of freedom she got whenever she took her daily walk. Just recently, her mother had finally allowed her to be the one to get the food for them. For years, Leda had been begging her mother to do this chore, if only to get some fresh air.

_If I can get fresh air under this cloak,_ thought Leda, annoyed at the cloth that covered her. That was the condition that her mother had set- to always wear the invisibility cloak as an added precaution. There was already a disillusionment charm placed on the entry of the house, so no one around could see that a hole appeared in the ground of the middle of a forest every time one of the two females exited the house. She continued her way across the forest, searching the ground for berries and nuts under the dim moonlight.

Two hours later, after collecting a hoard of forest food, she made her way to the nearest house. It was an isolated farm, where only a small muggle family lived in. She crept into an open first-floor window, luckily one near the kitchen. She walked toward the refrigerator and opened it, careful not to make a noise. A burst of fresh air blew out, and Leda silently sighed with relief. It was getting quite warm under the cloak. Inside, there was a plethora of delicious food she never regularly saw at home. Not wanting to be too greedy, she only grabbed a loaf of bread, a few slices of cheese, and some milk. She was sure her mother would be content with the supply she had gathered that evening. Smiling to herself, she closed the refrigerator and made her way out.

* * *

Leda walked hurriedly back to the house. She had taken a little longer than she was supposed to, considering her very sudden discovery. It had been in the middle of a pond, sparkling in its modest splendor. It was a simple silver chain, on the end of which was a miniature hourglass contained in two rings. She had taken a while to retrieve it from the water, since the use of a wand was being monitored everywhere, and it would be deemed suspicious if there was any magical activity in the middle of an isolated English wood. She hated to think what the Death Eaters would do to her if she was caught. She shuddered at the possibilities. Her mother had told her all about those atrocities. 

Leda had to climb a nearby tree and a stick to finally salvage the shining necklace. She held the chain tight within her small left hand, while she held the basket containing the food in the other.

She was sure her mother would be worried about her. Since the beginning of her life, her mom worried constantly about getting caught by Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters. She could never think of a time that was anxious-free.

She sighed and quickened her step. _Boy, am I in trouble, _she thought.

Hermione paced the small living room. She looked at the small clock on the wall. 11:25. _She was supposed to come back 25 minutes ago._ She signed for the hundredth time for that half-hour while she anxiously crossed her arms. This was not good. Leda was always punctual. Again, she sat down on the couch to try to control her nerves. She tied her unruly hair in a bun, but wasn't satisfied with the result, so she undid it again and it returned to its normal, bushy state.

_Creak._

She jumped up and looked up toward the entrance. At first, there was no one there, but within a couple of seconds, a cloak slipped off, and revealed a slender, young girl with sleek brown hair and blue-grey eyes. She looked up at her mother guiltily, and looked down as if in shame.

"Leda Antigone Granger!!! Where have you been?!!! I was sick with worry about you!!!! You were twenty-five minutes late!!!!!! I specifically said eleven o'clock!!! What happened!!!????"

The young girl at first, seemed hesitant to speak, but then quickly blurted out, "I kind of lost track of the time, I was so busy looking for food and I really liked the fresh air, and I forgot to check my watch…" her voice hanging in the air as the words dwindled, feeling she could not say more without being redundant.

Hermione was in a state of severe exhaustion, caused by the plethora of emotions that had run through her for the past half-hour, first worry and anxiety at not having Leda home on time, then dread for fear of the terrible things that might have happened to her, then frustration at not being able to go out and look for her, relief and happiness to see her back alive, and anger at Leda being so late and having her worry. This roller coaster of feelings clearly showed itself in the 35-year-old woman. She was as pretty as she ever was, in a knowledgeable way, and would have appeared to be in her twenties if it weren't for her eyes that betrayed trouble, turmoil, and hardship. It held no youthful twinkle that had graced her face and once spoke of determination, vigor, and boldness. Instead, it looked sad, worn, and tired, yet it would occasionally sparkle whenever she was especially proud of her daughter.

Unable to voice her emotions into intelligible words, the mother finally relented and nodded. Her daughter quickly walked over to her, set down the basket and cloak on the table, and enveloped her mother in a hard embrace that communicated her apology. Her mother understood and returned the embrace. After a while, mother and daughter let go, and they both smiled tenderly at each other.

"You need to get to bed. It's late," said Hermione with a weak smile.

"All right, mum. Oh yeah, I got some extra things from the farmhouse. Some cheese, milk, and bread. You'll find it all in the basket," she finished with a warm smile.

"Did you-" Hermione started, only to be cut off by her daughter.

"Yeah, I left some money on their table. Don't worry." Her mother always had qualms when it came to taking supplies, for she considered it stealing.

Hermione smiled. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, mum."

Leda walked to her room, holding the necklace tightly in the palm of her hand.


	2. Her Musings

A/N: Arisuno: I'm sorry I promised to update earlier, but with homework and social gatherings I did not have much time to edit this by Friday. Anyways, hope you enjoy, and I will be hopefully get much better at updating!

Chapter 2

Her Research

Leda was restless. She kept thinking about the necklace. She knew what it was- a time turner. Other than in books, she had never seen one before. Yet, there was something different about it, and it irked her that she couldn't remember what it was. Deciding to look into it further, she gave up on her agitated ponderings and headed towards her bookshelves.

Her room was larger than the living room. It had white walls, no windows and a dark parquet floor. All the furniture in the room consisted of a queen-sized bed, a desk, a chair, five large bookshelves (all full with books her mother had given her), a cupboard for potions, and a dresser with a mirror. For an underground room, it was elegantly cozy.

Reaching the other end of the room, she perused her bookshelves for something useful by only the light of a candle. After a while, she found it: _Time Turners: the Debate on Their Uses_. She flipped a couple of pages until she found the introduction, which, after a quick glance at it, she recalled instantly:

_As many wizards and witches know, Time Turners are special devices to return to any point within that last twenty-four hours, as indicated by the number of turns given to the knob at the side of the instrument, one turn for each hour. It is a very volatile object, considering it harnesses the ability to change time itself. Such devices therefore, were to be treated with caution, and its use regulated. It was once used for advancement of academically superior students in schools, not to mention its use by Aurors or other departments of the Ministry of Magic. Now, however, they have become obsolete, only used by certain officials in high power._

Leda scoffed. She knew perfectly well that the 'officials' were Death Eaters. She moved on.

_There are many effects that result with the improper use of these devices. Wizards have been said to implode, suffer excruciating pain, perish, or undergo other calamities if they misuse this dangerous implement. The Ministry of Magic has, as of 2007, due to the events of the past ten years, have concluded that the many deaths were not caused by the Dark Lord, as has been rumoured erroneously, since his death was some time in the early 80's, but by the incorrect use of time-turners. There is a wealth of evidence that supports this, and therefore, all time-turners have been tracked into safe-keeping. Consequently, the number of deaths has decreased, and has not risen since. _

She knew this information to be incorrect. Everyone knew. From the smallest child in the household to the elderly, from the idiots of the town to the brainiest of the cities, everyone knew. Yet the Ministry pretended like everything was normal, when it was actually far from it. That was what Voldemort did. He made everyone live in fear for any secret surprises, while forcing them to live as normal lives as ever. Everyone, of course, except her mother, her, mudbloods, and half-bloods, and others of questionable purity.  
Either they were in hiding, or they were forced to be slaves to purebloods. Muggles were left to live their lives in fear, not knowing whatever it was that started the surprise attacks, killed people, and made their lives a living hell. She hated this covert war- it was agonizing. Years ago, former Order members had been captured and sent to Azkaban, and several of them had been administered the Dementor's kiss. Before an attempt at a coup had even begun to materialize, it was quickly shattered.

Whenever she thought of this, it brought a feeling of utter hopelessness and emptiness. It brought questions of purpose and the meaning of life. Whenever she discussed it with her mother, she, too, appeared to share the same sentiments, but dismissed them and tried to change the subject. At this, Leda would get frustrated. She abhorred this feeling of uselessness. She finally shook the thought. She scanned the book once again, until she came upon something interesting:

_There have been scholars who have claimed that the myth of the Fatum time turner is, indeed, fact. One prime supporter of this theory is the controversial writer, Meleager Jocasta. However, due to the extensive research of dedicated Ministry experts, it has been safely concluded, that in fact, this legendary time turner does not exist. _

Her interest in the book diverted, she replaced the book in the shelf and began to look for that name that sounded vaguely familiar. She quickly found it on a book titled _The Mental Dwellings of a Highly-Delusional Man_, a collection of his theories. She remembered reading it for leisure about four years ago, and had found him to be an entertaining, yet informative writer. The title incorrectly suggests him to be a sort of madman or quack, but Leda knew otherwise. It was a very antique looking book, with a broken spine, loose pages, yellow stains, and torn sheets. A name was written neatly inside the front cover: _Albus Dumbledore_.

_My mother's old headmaster_, Leda thought. Opening to the table of contents, she found the chapter on time-turners and quickly turned to it:

_As far as my research goes, I have reason to believe that despite the countless refutations from my peers, there is in fact, such a thing as the Fatum time turner. Said to be an ancient device, it is fabled to appear to the user at the right moment and location, assigning them a mission said to be their destiny, hence Fatum. The Fatum has been said to transcend the average time turner's limits by being able to send the user months, even years in time, as opposed to hours. It is _

At this particular spot the page is ripped, the bottom half forever lost. Realizing several other pages have been ripped off, she turned to the following page, on it which contained two adjacent pictures, one labeled _Standard time turner_, and the other _Fatum_. She examined them carefully, and determined the only difference was in the engraved letters in miniscule Latin that bordered the Fatum time turner, which exactly matched the one currently in her hand.

She placed the time turner delicately on her neck, the hourglass figure gently clinking with the locket already placed there. That locket was her only connection to her father, of whose identity she was not aware of. All that she knew came about him from the engraved initials on the small piece of jewelry: DM.

Thoughts whirling in her head, she was completely intrigued yet confused. She knew it was her destiny to do something, but what bothered her was that she didn't know what her mission was, and nothing vexed her more than being ignorant of something vital.

Trudging to her bed, she decided to sleep on it. Too lethargic and absorbed in her musings, she failed to hear the faint whirling sound coming from that mischievous necklace.

A/N: I hope you guys like it so far. It will get better. I'm planning on a lot of plot twists.

You probably already know who her father is, or else you must be pretty daft. And you probably already know how she will meet Tom. The story will develop faster, I promise!

Fatum- Destiny in Latin


	3. Her Awakening

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but here it is. It's been so busy, albeit not unpleasantly so, that I have not had the chance to write this until know. I also had to mull over how the intricate details of the plot in later chapters will match up with these earlier ones. The feat is more difficult than it seems. Oh, well, read on [If you haven't already konked out on your keyboard while reading this preamble

Chapter 3

Her Awakening

Leda felt a numbing pain on her right side. She opened her eyes. Everything was oddly blurry.

She instantly sensed that she was not in her room. She panicked.

Opening her eyes frantically, she found herself in unfamiliar territory. Her cheek was against the cold, hard, unwelcoming floor, and she could see a pair of feet walking towards her and coming to a stop.

"What are you doing here?" asked a voice directly above her. It was a charming one, with a hint of arrogance, and was that of a boy.

Standing up like a disoriented drunk, she was face to face with a handsome boy of about her age. He had dark wavy hair that framed his face in a flattering way, and dark green eyes.

He was exceedingly attractive, although his scrutiny did make her a bit nervous. After all, she had had little human contact, besides her mother, and was unaccustomed to the penetrating gazes of inquisitive boys. Add the fact that she had no plausible response, she was speechless.

Gathering whatever remained of her cognitive abilities, she frantically observed her surroundings, eager for some sort of clue that would tell her where she was. A long corridor was in view, with several doors on the walls. Nothing.

She looked at the boy again, who was raising his eyebrows, waiting for a response. He wore an old-fashioned set of robes. There was a crest on the right side of his chest. _Slytherin_.

Comprehension dawned on her face, but it quickly contorted to concentration as she thought of an excuse to give to the boy. She could think of none.

"I said, what- are- you- doing- here?" he repeated slowly, somewhat agitated at the lack of response.

"I must see Professor Dumbledore," she blurted out. Of all the people in the past that she had heard of, Professor Dumbledore's name seemed to be the one that stuck out the most, considering the book she had found a couple of hours or so.

"Why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes while giving her a questioning look.

"Um….." she started, but was interrupted when a hand patted her back.

"My dear niece, so nice to see you!!" said the cheerful male voice behind her. She turned abruptly, and was met with the sight of a twinkling-blue-eyed, red-haired man, possibly in his 30s or 40s, and was instantly reminded of her mother's old pictures from her school days. The man in front of her was Albus Dumbledore.

Under normal circumstances, Leda would shrink away from any strangers, but the man's amiable appearance and expression, and the fact that he saved her in just the nick of time from inventing an excuse all contributed to the fact that she was very happy to see him.

Leda decided to play along. "Uncle!!!" she exclaimed, and proceeded to give the man a small hug. He reciprocated with a paternal-like kindness, lightly patting her back until she reverted to a normal stance.

Turning to Tom, Dumbledore said, "It's good to see this young man has been taking care of you, isn't it, my dear?"

"Oh, yes, he was about to give me directions to your office when you came," she stated, giving Tom a pointed doe-eyed look.

"Sir, it was no trouble at all," he replied with a hint of a smile, "I'm simply glad to know she is all right, considering the odd condition I found her in. May I inquire as to the young lady's name?"

"Leda," she stated, somewhat irritated at his tone. Somehow, Dumbledore's sixth sense seemed to have caught on.

"Well, Tom, you must return to your duties while I must take this young lady to sort out her papers. She will be joining the student body quite soon."

"Good night, sir. Miss." he said, nodding respectively as he addressed them, and headed towards the other direction.

Looking at the retreating form of Tom, Dumbledore said kindheartedly, "Let's get you to my office."


	4. Her Arrangements

A/N: Damn it, I promised to update sooner. I had to finish an essay for the admissions into a summer program at a university. But I'm done now. I really hope to be more faithful in updating next time. I keep saying that, but I will prove it from now on!! (or at least try to)

Chapter 4

Her Arrangements

The walk to his office was not far, leaving Leda with practically no time to really contemplate her situation. For some mysterious reason, Dumbledore seemed to know the cause of her current circumstances, and had even the sense to save her from the boy's questions by claiming to be her uncle. Her mother had told her various stories of his seeming omniscience and clairvoyance, and having that verified within a matter of minutes of her arrival in this time was astounding, to say the least.

His office itself was not a large room, but not small, either. It was of sufficient size to house several bookcases, a desk, and various chairs, with ample space to move around comfortably. It was a bright and noisy room, mainly due to the whirring sounds and multi-colored light beams emanating from various knick-knacks on the bookshelves, drawing the young girl to them like an unsuspecting moth to a light.

"They're from my many exploits when I was younger," explained Dumbledore, breaking Leda's thoughts. "I was a keen collector as a boy. I still keep them simply for sentimental reasons." He motioned her to sit, and she took the invitation, mumbling her thanks. When she looked back up, he appeared thoughtful, and was transfixed with something around her neck.

"You've encountered a special artifact of sorts, so I see," he said, taking a seat at his desk while lazily pointing at her necklace.

"You know," he continued, as his voice took a more narrative tone, "just the other day, I was taking a walk in a forest, near Sheffield, and was so entranced by the beauty of nature, that I became seemingly unaware of the sudden loss of one of my special trinkets." His eyes twinkled. "Despite my various attempts to locate this cherished artifact, I never could. It has a mind of its own."

Leda, somewhat bewildered at the casualness with which he revealed his bewildering yet amusing tale, finally responded. "So…. there's a reason why I was the one to find this- time turner?" He nodded. "And I'm to…fulfill its mission, its purpose?" He nodded again.

Leda was rather bemused at this intake of information. The thought of time travel was still too uncanny for her to process at least in the couple of hours she had, and she was a bit flummoxed at how it came to pass so quickly, let alone that it had passed at all. Dumbledore waited for a few moments to let her thoughts sink in.

"Well, now that we've gotten that settled, I believe your housing and schooling arrangements are to be in order, am I correct?" he asked, kindly smiling at her.

"Um, well, I suppose, but I don't have-" she blubbered, shushing when he raised his hand and materialized a piece of parchment. After a minute or so of silent incantations and flicks of the wand, Dumbledore seemed pleased with the paper, and handed it to Leda for inspection.

The top read: _Salem School Transcript_, followed by a name: _Leda Dumbledore. _They were apparently grades for the first four years of schooling, and were nearly impeccable. Leda was confident without hubris that had she attended an academy she would have been more than capable of procuring such grades, yet it still led to a sense of disquiet washing over her.

"Don't fret, my dear," he assured her, at the embarrassed and uneasy expression on her face. "I'm quite sure you deserve them, and that you'll endeavor to prove my assumption correct."

"How did you- "

"Know?" He chuckled, before continuing, "You'll find out soon enough. Until then, we must have you get to your quarters if you're to make it to class tomorrow. I'll send you some necessities in the morning. I'll deal with the technicalities."

Leda, sensing the conversation was reaching an end, felt at a sort of loss as to what to do. Dumbledore, ever the omniscient, included, "I'll get the head girl to lead you to your quarters: she's a Gryffindor. I believe she's on her rounds today."

With that, Dumbledore led her out to the corridors, where they meandered across several hallways and stairs to finally encounter a mousy-brown-haired girl an inch or too taller than Leda. The girl's overall appearance seemed stoical, and there was an almost a calm, commanding demeanor. She seemed to be amiable however, at the sight of the Headmaster and the new girl.

"Good evening, sir, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Let me introduce you to Ms. Leda Dumbledore, she is my niece. I was hoping you would show her to the Gryffindor dormitories."

The girl smiled at Leda, while extending her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Leda. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I'm head girl."

"Nice to meet you, too," responded Leda, taking the girl's hand.

"Leda is in the fifth year, Ms. McGonagall. Would you mind showing her around for her classes this week?"

"No, not at all, sir."

"Well, then, goodnight to you both."

"Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Uncle."

And with that, Dumbledore departed. Minerva smiled at Leda before saying, "Come on, follow me." She then turned towards the opposite direction in which Dumbledore had left. Leda followed, peering at the portraits as she passed, which peered back.

A few floors and several hallways later, Minerva stopped in front of a portrait of a rather rotund woman who asked in a somewhat bored tone, "Password?"

"Monkeys in a barrel," replied Minerva. "That's the password for this week." she informed her. Leda nodded her understanding.

They entered a rather large room full of tables, chairs, sofas, a fireplace directly in front of them, and two staircases on the left and right sides. Pointing to one of them, Minerva yawned, "The tenth door down is your room. You'll find an empty bed there. I hope you don't mind if I head on out early; it's the end of my rounds today. I find you in the morning."

Leda nodded sympathetically at the girl's apparent weariness, and murmured her thanks, while Minerva left the room.

She sighed deeply, lost in thought. Too much had happened, and she knew that she wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

A/N: Sorry if that was sort of boring, It's taking me a while to get to the really good part. Bad me. I'll just have to use a catalyst of some sort.


End file.
